


A Birthday Surprise

by The_Playground_of_Alcor



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Birthday, Mysterious summons, Sombra(mention), surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 17:23:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11787867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Playground_of_Alcor/pseuds/The_Playground_of_Alcor
Summary: Jesse McCree gets a note.





	A Birthday Surprise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maxride003](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxride003/gifts).



> This is a surprise(albeit belated) birthday gift for one of my best friends, Rye! Happ Birf!! :D

Looking down at the note again to confirm the address, McCree furrowed his brow in confusion again. He still didn’t know how the slip of paper had found its way into his duffel, but the instructions on it were clear enough. Come to this address on this day at this time for a “pleasant and much-desired surprise”. The fact that this address was one of a long series of abandoned warehouses in Mexico wasn’t at all concerning.

The slightly singed edges to the paper made it clear who it was from, or at least who someone wanted him to _think_ it was from; Jamieson Fawkes, A.K.A. Junkrat, that explosive Aussie merc that had been making headlines recently. If those headlines were to be believed, he’d finished blowing his way into the vault of the Banco de Dorado, just a couple hundred miles away. For most, it would be insane to still be so close to the site of such a job, but most would also agree that Fawkes was anything but sane.

McCree sighed and pulled out his revolver, double-checking that the cylinder was fully loaded before holstering it again, hoisting his duffel onto his shoulder, and moving towards the building. Keeping his hand on the pistol’s grip, he made his way around the side to the side entrance he’d spotted the day before as he’d cased the area, half-muttering at himself over the idiocy of this whole thing. Of course, he’d showed up a day early to scope out the location, see if he spotted anyone setting anything up, pinpoint possible escape routes, etc. He wasn’t _that_ much of an idiot.

Testing the door and finding it unlocked, he slowly eased it open, ready to throw himself back at the first hint of a trap. None showed, however, so he continued, quietly stepping inside. The interior was sporadically lit from the outside sun, mostly through the various broken windows. It seemed to be largely empty, with a few remains of its past life in the form of broken crates and a pile of empty shipping containers against one wall.

Except… Were they empty? Looking closer, McCree saw that some of the light seemed to be coming from one of the container’s doors instead of from outside. Edging closer, and keeping as much of an eye on his surroundings as he could, he made his way to the door of the container and peeked in.

He didn’t know what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t what he found. Inside the container(or rather, containers), there was a fully-furnished, double-floored sitting room, complete with wood-paneled walls and floor, couches and chairs, small balcony from the apparent second floor, and even a currently unlit fireplace.

“What the devil…?” He muttered, surprised and awed by the shift in his surroundings as he stepped inside. He knew what traps usually looked like, but this? This surely didn’t look like one…

“Well, it took you bloody long enough, mate!!” A voice called out from a doorway to one side. McCree quickly pulled his gun, ready to unload on his attacker, except there was no attack. There was just the infamous Junkrat coming from the door, arms spread like he was welcoming a long-expected guest, and wearing a makeshift apron that read ‘If it ain't burned, it ain't done’. “I was starting to think you’d decided to skip out on me!”

“Uh…” McCree slowly uncocked his revolver and lowered it, still ready but now doubting that a threat was here. “Well, I can’t say as the thought didn’t occur to me… Ya mind if’n I ask what this is all about?”

“Oh, sure!! Come on and take a load off, and let me tell ya the story!” The Aussie said, motioning to one of the recliners before dropping onto the couch.

McCree looked around the space again, glancing back to make sure the door was still open, before reluctantly holstering his gun, setting his duffel down and taking a seat. “All right, do tell, then.”

“So, you heard about that Dorado job just went down, yeah? Well, that was me! Me and Mako, o’course. Oh, yeah, say hi, Mako!” He called out to the door he’d just left. From the doorway, a large hog-masked head poked out, uttering a guttural “Hey” with a nod, then disappeared again.

“Anyway, me and him, we knew there was a big ol’ gold shipment going through there. Naturally, we had to relieve it from them, couldn’t just let all those piles o’ shiny just sit there, could we! But, the coppers, they were keepin’ too close an eye on it, we had to get an edge, y’see? So, we went to the one _chica_ who could give us that.”

“Sombra.” McCree said with recognition, slowly relaxing as the tale went on.

“That’s the one, aye! Ah, that Sheila’ll find out anything ya want, for the right price. Anyway, since we were askin’ her for stuff, I thought we’d see what she could find out about some of the good ol’ boys and girls from Overwatch! Just for a laugh, y’know, see if we could track any of ‘em down, maybe send ‘em a fake bomb, that kinda thing.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’d all appreciate that…” McCree said dryly. “Maybe even enough to return the favor…”

“Ooh, y’think so? Well, I might just have to try it, then…” Junkrat looked off contemplatively for a moment before shaking himself and returning his attention to the cowboy. “Anyhow, I’m sure you’ve figure out, one of the ones she found was none other than yourself! Didn’t have much on ya, just a bit of tussle on the other side from OW with them Deadlocks. Did show something else, too, though. Showed that you didn’ know when your actual birthday was. Now, how d’ya like that, huh? Man not knowin’ when he was born… Course, you know Sombra, you know she don’t like anything bit o’ info left un-dug, so she kept on a’digging. And guess what she found? A date. Your date. And ya care to guess when that day was?”

McCree furrowed his brow, not sure if this was all some kind of elaborate prank on him or what. “I… I dunno, when is it?” He asked, glancing around for anything looking to spring out at him.

“Well, it’s only today, numbskull! Today’s yer birthday!” With that announcement, the rotund Roadhog entered the room again, wearing an apron that read “Kiss the cook, lose yer lips”, and carrying a surprisingly extravagant and well-lit cake. As he set it down, McCree saw that the top read “Happy Wranglin’ Day, Pardner!” over a wild west scene.

“...... **_What._** ” McCree said simply, confounded and at a complete loss for words.

“Like I said, it’s yer birthday! And what does everyone deserve on their birthday? Cake! C’mon, mate, it ain’t gonna eat itself!” The Aussie said as he began slicing up the cake, letting Roadhog return to what must be the kitchen and come back with plates and forks.

McCree shook his head, chuckling softly at the situation. “Well… Well, damn if I can’t argue with that kinda logic. Here, gimme that piece with the cactus, would ya?”


End file.
